


Find Me

by pietromavximoff



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Birthday Present, Canon Divergence, F/M, Pining, daryl's soft only for beth, prison one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29310057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pietromavximoff/pseuds/pietromavximoff
Summary: It's hard to keep track of time during the end of the world, but when Beth mentions that she thinks it's her birthday, Daryl makes sure to get her something that shows just how much he's beginning to care for her.
Relationships: Bethyl - Relationship, Daryl Dixon & Beth Greene, Daryl Dixon/Beth Greene
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50





	Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> short and sweet, wrote this in a few hours and it's a little different to my usual style but i hope you like it anyway! canon divergence from after the governor comes to the prison in season 4, we're straight up ignoring that and living in denial that team family is still at the prison and beth and daryl are falling in love :) leave a comment if you enjoyed!

Before Daryl spotted the ukulele, he was just about ready to hop back onto his motorbike and call it a day, forget the stupid idea that had formed in his head that morning and forget the slight taste of regret on his tongue that he’d have if he left now. He was meant to be on a run for whatever he could scavenge – whatever was left from the town they’d already stripped bare – but he knew back at the prison they had the best setup they’d had in weeks, far better than when the governor had shown up and blown half of the cell blocks to pieces. That day weighed heavily on his mind as it did everyone else’s but he was trying – along with everyone else – to rebuild, and be grateful that no one close to him had been hurt. In the weeks that followed they restored, changed their living spaces, reassessed what they needed to survive and what they could go without. It had been hard at first, with Judy crying through the night and Maggie and Glenn moaning in it from somewhere underneath where Daryl usually slept on the perch, everyone suddenly much closer than usual, but he’d gotten used to it. Working himself to the point of exhaustion had come naturally after what they’d all been through and most nights he was happy to have a roof over his head and a thin blanket to wrap around his shoulders. Most nights. Then there were the nights that left him wanting, that left him longing, that were so far gone from what he expected that he couldn’t fathom how this had snuck up on him, and how he continued to let it. Because with all the changes in their home, with all the runs and training and shifts taking turns cooking and cleaning and killing, there had been one constant. Beth.

Daryl thought of her name as a mantra some days, never letting it slide off his tongue but letting it run around his mind, testing the weight of it on his lips before he swallowed it back down. Beth.

She’d had to move into the cell block next to his perch after the governor had come, bringing wildflowers from the outskirts of the prison in with her and filling a dirty glass to put them in. Daryl had watched her as she’d hung up a curtain over her doorway, organised a few old photos by her bed, hands stilling against his arrows as he grew distracted watching her.

‘The fuck you need those for?’ He’d asked before he’d even realised he was intending to speak, and all of a sudden Beth’s bright blue eyes found his and her mouth had twisted into a half smile. She followed his gaze to the lilac petals splashed against the grim walls.

‘They’re pretty.’

Daryl blew out a breath as he’d turned back to his arrows, her words bouncing around his skull as he tried to make sense of them. Pretty. He’d almost forgotten the word existed, had almost forgotten what it meant until it came from her lips. Because in this whole wide world of ugly and terrible things, there was nothing pretty, not anymore. Or so he’d thought.

‘Pretty ain’t gonna keep you alive.’ He’d grunted after a minute, eyes sharp as Hershel and Rick entered the cell block, talking in hushed voices.

Beth paused, turning back around to look at him, following his gaze. ‘Yeah, maybe not.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw her nod towards her father. ‘My mother used to have flowers like these in every room of the house when she was alive. I know he likes them. Makes him feel better.’

‘It make you feel better?’ Daryl grated in response, not even knowing why the hell he suddenly cared whether Beth missed her dead mother. Because the truth was, they all had something. Someone that had been taken. Someone that had made things different forever. He knew his brother hadn’t been a saint but he’d been here. And now he was gone.

‘Sometimes.’ Beth said quietly, and now Daryl did turn to look at her, watching the way her sharp elbows jutted out as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her slight weight to one side. ‘It’s not just for me. I think people need to be reminded sometimes that there are still things worth living for. I did. Maybe someone else does, too. It’s not cause they’re pretty. It’s cause they’re alive.’

‘Ain’t been alive since you pulled them from the ground.’ Daryl pointed out dryly, feeling strangely defensive at Beth’s words. She’d never been outspoken, usually standing in the shadow of Maggie but she was dependant, always there whenever anybody needed something. And he knew she saw more than she let on, knew that maybe he didn’t know all there was to know about her. And it scared Daryl, to think that she maybe knew things about him that he didn’t like people knowing, things like how he missed his brother so much some days he thought it would kill him, things like how he smoked every cigarette he could find wondering if that would kill him first.

Beth laughed at his remark, a tinkling, light sound that echoed through the small cell block. Daryl looked around automatically to see who’d heard and saw Hershel looking up, recognising the sound. He offered them a nod, a tiny glint in his eye as he turned back to Rick. Daryl felt colour rush to his face and he cleared his throat, turning away from Beth and busying himself with the arrows scattered around his feet. He was so used to screams and crying and moaning and whimpering that it felt as though he’d never heard another laugh before Beth’s. Wondering how long Hershel had been watching them and hoping fervently that he hadn’t seen the shift in his expression at the noise, Daryl stood up, shouldering his crossbow as he turned away from Beth, trying to figure out how the longing in his gut had bubbled into fear. He descended the stairs feeling Beth’s eyes on him all the way down, burning holes in his back and he felt it for the rest of the day, when he pulled bodies out of buildings and when he sucked smoke out of cigarettes until his tongue was dry.

* * *

Beth hadn’t mentioned his abrupt exit since that conversation, but Daryl knew she remembered it as well as he did. He avoided her for a few days after, feeling awkward and confused and annoyed and sure that the stirrings in his gut at the thought of that laugh could lead to nothing good, but Beth had found her way in, anyway. He supposed it would be easy for her, to talk to her father and her sister only, rocking Judy to sleep in silence, humming a song under her breath for company, but she didn’t. In the weeks that followed Beth was all around him, sometimes yawning a good morning as she stepped around his makeshift bed when she woke, sometimes insisting he take half her plate because she’d picked up on the fact that he rarely ate, and sometimes scolding him for being too loud sharpening his knives while Judy was asleep only feet away. They were a few weeks into their strangely comfortable dynamic when Beth had emerged from her cell, blue sheet that she used as a curtain swinging behind her, rubbing at her eyes tiredly.

‘Little asskicker finally asleep?’ Daryl had asked lowly, eyes darting downstairs to ensure they didn’t interrupt the quiet night.

‘Yeah.’ Beth muttered, leaning over the railing and following his gaze down. ‘Wakes up everytime I try to move her to her cot, though, so I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep anytime soon.’

Daryl turned her words over in his head, wondering what she’d say if he offered her his space, and promptly shook the thought from his mind. He slept on a pile of blankets that didn’t totally soften the unrelenting ground, and he was sure an offer like that would be seen by Beth as one thing, and he couldn’t even imagine how she’d react if she thought he was asking that of her. It had crossed his mind – of course it had crossed his mind. Ever since she’d uttered the word “pretty” all he could think of was how there might not be much of that in the world, but she was certainly it. And between the constant threat of death and the million other jobs they all had to do, Daryl barely let himself think on it until moments like now. Where the world was quiet and the night had sucked any remaining fight out of his stubborn body and he could consider Beth with half-lidded eyes, wondering when he’d grown so familiar with the lilt of her voice as she smiled, wondering when he’d been able to pinpoint her just by the way her bare feet padded across the landing.

‘Ain’t gotta do it all alone, you know.’ Daryl answered gruffly, playing with a hunting knife between his fingers, feeling that it was safer to run his hands along the sharp blade than to keep talking to Beth. She had this way of making him feel seen, pulling things out of him that told her he cared. Vulnerable. She made him vulnerable.

‘Oh yeah, you gonna help me Dixon?’

Daryl huffed. ‘Might, if you stop that smart mouth of yours every night tellin’ me to keep quiet.’

A soft laugh escaped Beth’s throat and she threw herself down, close enough to him that he caught a whiff of the vanilla that soaked her sunshine hair, far enough that she could stretch out her legs and not reach him. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Thought hunters were supposed to be quiet.’

Daryl shook his head ruefully at her, familiar enough with her now that he didn’t need to double take to try and work out if she was joking or not. Beth usually was, and he knew it wasn’t just out of a need to but a want to, and although he might be stupidly unobservant when it came to her, he didn’t miss the pleased look and the colour that flooded her cheeks everytime she made him huff in amusement.

‘You sure got a mouth on you for somethin’ so little.’ He teased, grateful that there was no one around to hear them. They spoke to each other during the days all the time, but it was never like this, and perhaps Beth was always the same no matter where she was, but Daryl was only himself when they were alone. He looked forward to nights more and more, and although he enjoyed the company of the rest of their little family, he would trade days speaking to them for a night like this with Beth. It felt like being comfortable for the first time in his life. It felt like being known.

‘I’m not so little anymore.’ Beth murmured after a while, eyes pensive. Daryl waited for her to go on, stretching back on his haunches and bringing his knees to his chin. ‘Pretty sure it’s my birthday next week.’

Daryl’s head snapped around to look at her, dull candlelight from her cell making half of her face glow, the fractured moonlight coming through the boarded windows on the other half.

‘Plannin’ on gettin’ lit, Greene?’

This broke Beth out of her thoughtfulness and she rolled her eyes at him, biting back a laugh. ‘I’m only saying because I’m pretty sure no one keeps track of the days anymore. Maggie and my dad sure don’t but I know it must be nearly here cause those blue flowers by the gates are starting to wilt.’

Daryl peered around to the corner of her cell that was still visible and saw she was right; even freshly picked today and in a clean glass of water the flowers looked close to death.

‘How old are you anyway?’ Daryl asked after a moment, finding it strange that he was so close with her and barely even knew the most basic things.

‘I’ll be nineteen.’

Daryl swallowed hard, this news doing nothing to stop the war raging in his chest. Beth must have noticed him grow quiet because she sat up, blinking at him.

‘What?’

‘Nothin’.’

‘Yeah, right.’

Daryl cleared his throat and made to stand but Beth had beat him to it; she propped herself up on her long legs and wandered closer to him, resting her elbows against the railing and quirking her head around to look at him quizzically.

‘How old are you, anyway?’

‘Too old.’ Daryl said in a rough voice before he got the chance to consider what that meant. Beth raised a brow, half smile playing across her pink lips.

‘Too old for what?’ She breathed, hair spilling over the railing.

Daryl considered her for a second then let out a breath, shaking his head, feeling his fingers shaking with a sudden spike of adrenaline. His tongue was no longer nearly as careful as it should be around her, and this was just one slip up in the long list of things he’d said to her that he shouldn’t’ve.

He almost answered, almost kept up their dangerous flirt, but then a soft wail sounded from Beth’s cell and she was bolting to calm Judy down before she woke everyone up, leaving Daryl in a confused tangle of thoughts that told him he shouldn’t have said anything, that told him he should’ve said more.

* * *

Daryl had only meant to go for a short run but he’d taken nearly all day, and as he strapped the ukulele tightly onto the saddlebag of his motorcycle, he ran through excuses he could make to Rick as to why he had to take so long for a few bottles of pills and three cans of tuna. It was a warm day and the sun beat down on his back as he rode into the prison, eyes scanning for Beth as he always did lately. She’d taken to sitting by the inner gate with Judy, reading her a story or else on walker duty like everyone else. Daryl didn’t miss the change in her routine, and when he’d asked her, she’d simply put it down to her needing a change of scenery, but he thought that her face seemed to light up a little more whenever she spotted him riding through the gates, back home.

Today, the yard was empty save for Rick and Glenn, who greeted him enthusiastically but let him into the cell block without a fuss. He passed through a crowd of people who raised hands up in acknowledgment but didn’t see a mass of blonde hair anywhere. It wasn’t until he made his way into their cell block that he saw Beth, at his perch, sewing up holes in the few clothes he had. His heart softened at the sight. He hadn’t asked her to – would never ask her to do this for him – but she was someone who rarely needed permission, especially with him. And if there was anyone that could go through his things and get away with it, it was her.

‘Beth.’ His voice was softer than he’d dare imagine as he approached her, and he thought of all the times he’d wanted to say her name, and all the times he hadn’t.

‘Hey. You’re back early.’ Beth remarked with a sly grin as he hauled himself up the stairs, grateful that everyone else was in the next room.

‘Ain’t you meant to be at dinner?’

‘Judy’s sleeping,’ Beth replied with a tilt of her head to her room, ‘didn’t wanna leave her. Besides, all your stuff was just laying out here innocently waiting me to snoop through.’

Daryl grunted at her bright tone, taking off his pack and feeling a thrill of nervousness at the shape his hands clasped around inside.

‘Mhm, find anythin’?’

‘Stack of playboys and romance novel.’

‘You’re funny.’ Daryl grunted, barely hearing her as he wriggled out the instrument and held it out. Beth’s smile froze, her teasing expression failing as she took in what he held in his hand.

‘Know you said it was your birthday, so –’

‘Are you kidding? You got this for me?’ Beth asked, eyes sparkling as she reached forward and took the ukulele with shaking hands. Her fingers brushed his and Daryl felt a shock go through his body at her touch. Beth noticed too, because her eyes widened and her hand retracted quickly, clearing her throat as she marvelled at his present.

‘I can’t believe you remembered.’ She muttered, running a hand along the splintered neck, not even seeming to care that it was missing a string or that it probably wasn’t in tune. When Beth looked back up to him, it was like he’d given her the sun, and the warmth that went through Daryl under her gaze was nothing that he’d ever experienced before. He wanted her to always be this happy. He wanted to always be the reason for it.

‘’S nothin’,’ he started, feeling like an impostor, feeling like a thief. If this was the real world and Beth could actually have things she deserved, he’d buy her a new one, he’d buy her the best one. He wondered if he’d know her if the world hadn’t gone to shit. He wondered what the chances of him knowing her after the world had gone to shit were, and felt instantly grateful.

‘It’s not nothing, Daryl. I love it.’ Beth glowed at him, and before he knew it, she was closing the gap between them and placing a soft kiss on his cheek, vanilla all around him and golden hair tickling his neck and he wasn’t thinking as his hand found her chin and tilted her head a fraction sideways. Beth was quicker to react than he’d been, immediately knowing by his hand on her like that that this was okay to do, that he wanted this, too. Her lips brushed over his so lightly that it almost tickled, so lightly that she let out a breathy laugh against his mouth and he swallowed it whole.

‘Come find me, after dinner.’ Beth murmured into his neck, ocean eyes full of wonder as she grinned up at him, turning away at the sound of Judy’s stirring. Daryl couldn’t help the smile that curled around his teeth at her words, his heart racing into his ribs and creating a permanent tattoo there of her, of this.

He’d found her in the middle of all this, after all. He’d found her at the end of the world, found her struggling to survive, found her as she’d handed him Judy to hold for the first time and each time her name had been thrown around in conversation. And she’d found him, in the last few weeks, in a way that he’d never been.

He found her after dinner.


End file.
